Pain, peaks, power and purpose: why I love hill climbing
By Francis Schofield
^Coasting through the trees over the finish on Leith Hill, Surrey, 18/09/21
If you asked the average person and even seasoned cyclist what the worst part of riding a bike is, they’d probably say one of three things:
Riding in cold, rainy weather
Getting caked in mud
Having to cycle uphill
Thing is, points 1 and 2 are preventable and somewhat manageable. If you don’t want to get cold, wet or covered in mud then you can install mudguards, wear good quality kit and- the simplest measure- only ride your bike in nice weather. The third point, however, is not. Sure, you could buy an expensive e-bike to assist you up the hills or straight up move to the Netherlands, but on a regular bike there isn’t much you can do to make hills more bearable and faster to ride up. Humans annoyingly do not have the ability to flatten the whole Earth (although some of us believe the earth to already be flat, so hey-ho) and sometimes we need to get over a hill in order to get where we want to go.
But let’s assume that the entire earth was completely flat (unless you’re a flat earther already). Well, it would be really, really dull, wouldn’t it? Think about how awesome the Himalayas, the Alps or even the North York Moors look. There’s something about our inability to shift the way of the land that is so interesting. As an English and History student, the term ‘sublime’ springs to mind; a fusion of emotion, passion and beauty between landscape and man. The term mainly appeared in criticism of the arts and humanities in the 19th Century, when new technologies allowed us to explore more of the wilderness, yet also began to threaten its destruction. The invention of the bicycle leans towards the former.
^Full focus on Norwood Edge, near Otley, 10/10/21
Cycling uphill is an effort. It takes significant energy and time (or overall- power) to drag the mass of you and your bike skywards. If you’re cycling in the rain, in a rush to get over the small hill of University Road on your fixed gear townie bike in time for your lectures (these details definitely aren’t specific to me…), then hills feel like a chore and an annoyance. But when you need some extra resistance while training and you want to recruit leg muscles that you hadn’t thought existed, then hills can definitely come in handy. Plus, the effort of ascending a hill is often rewarded with amazing views, a strange sense of achievement, a rush of endorphins and a rewarding descent. Like life in general, if you make the effort earlier, it will pay off later. (#hillionairegrindset) So, this point of thought is where most cyclists stop. Just getting up and down the hills is tricky and rewarding enough, so what more should we do?
This is where the masochists come in. Nope, not sexual masochists- although wearing lycra and facing pain may be a fetish for some, the University’s FetSoc will probably help you out with that instead of UYCC. I’m talking about cycling masochists. Those who ride their bikes for one purpose; to delve beyond our limits of pain and come out the other side stronger. These kinds of cyclists often find themselves resorting to hill climb racing.
Hill climbs are simple- really simple. So simple that cavemen probably came up with the concept when they invented a form of wheel. You see a hill, you climb it as quickly as possible. Fastest person up the hill wins. Makes sense as a challenge, right?
You can race up short and sharp hills (e.g. Monsal Head, The Peak District), you can race up hills which aren’t really hills but rather slightly upwards flats (e.g. Tan Hill, Yorkshire Dales), you can race up huge monsters of climbs (e.g. Great Dun Fell, North Pennines) or anything in between. While the best riders in the country will commonly place top 10s, hill climbs themselves aren’t ‘one size fits all’; some cyclists will suit different kinds of hills compared to others, and for some hills the challenge comes with pacing. If a hill starts steep then flattens off, you’ll need to go harder on the steeper bit to make up time (I could explain this but it would take hours) or vice versa if the steep bit comes later. Then there’s wind conditions, weather in general, how you feel on the day etc. etc. All of a sudden, riding up a hill becomes a bit more tricky!
^The last race of 2021 up Ditchling Beacon, East Sussex. I dislike the climb but did surprisingly well on the day. It looks like I was pushing a 34x23 gear up a steep 10% corner, so I must have felt pretty decent!
There are a few more details, rules and regulations, but that’s basically it. You sign up online, show up to the race Headquarters on the day (anything from a village hall to a layby, a pub, bike shop or even a brewery), pin a race number on, put on a cycling cap for tradition, superstition and you set off at a given time. Riders are released every minute and timed at the top of the climb using a fancy version of a stopwatch. There can be anything from 20 to 360 riders showing up to a hill climb, but either way you’ll likely bump into some insanely quick riders.
So, unless you’re very gifted, train like mad, have all the gear and experience, then you probably won’t win a hill climb. The best I’ve managed this year has been 9th so far and there are many riders of all ages and experience levels showing up to these events. So why do we do it? Why go to the effort of showing up? Why put in the hours training for it? Why pay for these events when you can just ride up the hills yourself?
I personally do it because a race scenario makes me push harder than ever. When it’s just you and the climb, a pure effort lasting a few minutes, a bike without a saddlebag or extra parts and a crowd of spectators and other riders cheering you on, you can do some incredible things. The world around you begins to blur. You try to control your thoughts and pace things just right, while keeping it at the limit. Your legs ache and burn, but still you find a little extra power within them.
^Butts Lane, and Firle Beacon, East Sussex, 2018. My first proper hill climb season.
Another part of why I enjoy it is because of the community. Racing alongside and cheering on like minded riders with stupidly modified bikes, killer calf muscles and daft senses of humour is great and there’s always plenty to discuss over tea or a pint and cake after the climb. Just seeing some of the fastest bunch shoot up the hills is phenomenal. The level of bike tech you can see at some events is mad too- think bikes that cost more than most cars, with chopped down handlebars, carbon fibre everything and frames which you can lift with your pinkie finger. Of course, it’s more about the rider, but every gram counts and building a specialist bike is a fun way to prepare for hill climb season.
Of course, it would be nice to win a hill climb and have my name present on a small fragment of hill climb history. My dream would be to win the National Championships one day- something which seems almost impossible, but not completely. But that’s not just what it’s about. If there’s someone faster than you, so be it. They’ve put the work in, used up their luck and the gift of the gab and they’ve put it all out on the road, just like you have. The main opponent you have to beat is yourself; overcoming your mental and physical limits. If you can leave a hill climb thinking ‘that was the best I could do’, then you’ve won. If you didn’t do your best or cocked up your plan, then it’s something to learn from and it happens to all of us. I’ve seriously screwed up three hill climbs as far as I can recall and the lessons I’ve learned will stick with me through the rest of my hill climbing ‘career’.
^Me watching ex- National Champion Andrew Feather on Ripponden Bank, a climb tackled during the Tour de France in 2014! Who knows, maybe one day...
This year, my main cycling goal was to get into the National Championships, which will be held on Winnats Pass on Sunday the 31st (spooky, huh?). Winnats is a famous and iconic British climb situated in the Peak District near Sheffield; only 900m long but stupidly steep. The smooth road rises and twists through a perfectly picturesque green valley, perfect for spectators and photographers, and it leaves no area for respite. No wonder the Nationals have been held on it 10 times (previously in 1977, before the road became too busy to close it off and make the event worthwhile, until now!). I’m proud to say that I have qualified for a spot in the event, so now I’m mentally preparing myself to actually do it! It feels daunting, but it’s the perfect opportunity for my first ever National Championships of (hopefully) many. Just finishing with a decent time after having gone all out will satisfy me and it should be a great day out, seeing the best hill climbers in the country battle it out.
^Guise Lane, near Pateley Bridge, 10/10/21. Not my best effort, but I kept going.
Do you have any experience climbing hills, good or bad? Is hill climbing something that would interest you? Want to know more or ask any questions? Comment on this blog or send me an email/ message on my social media.
Onwards and upwards, signing out!
-F
P.S. here's some gurns for the road:
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